


Married in Asgard

by Seasnake



Category: Norse Mythology, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types, Thor: Tales of Asgard
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Asgard, Childbirth, Developing Relationship, F/M, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Married Life, Meet the Family, Minor Jane Foster/Thor, Miðgarðr | Midgard, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Politics, Royalty, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 12:38:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seasnake/pseuds/Seasnake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A marriage is arranged to create a truce between Asgard and Earth. Loki is not pleased, at least until he meets his bride and she is far more interesting than expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Marriage

**Author's Note:**

> After careful consideration I decided to not draw characters from Norse mythology. I took one S.H.E.I.L.D agent from the comic books. Rated Strong T: non-graphic sexual content between a married couple, some cursing, talk of past child abuse and rape, fantasy violence.

Loki tries not to make a face in the mirror as he fastens his ceremonial armor. Not for the first time he wishes to be the eldest son instead of the second. Right now he would even take a poor upbringing over royalty.  


Midgard was a mortal realm that Asgard had once defended from the frost giants, where the populace used to worship them as gods, that was populated by fragile humans and only a small portion of that populace were warriors, or at least what passed for warriors in their realm. Yet, despite all this the mortals had somehow created weapons and a few teams of elite soldiers powerful enough to be a threat to the nine realms. The developing realm was expanding at a near dangerous rate. If even the slightest thing went wrong on their end or if one of the other realms provoked them, it would result in chaos and war. To prevent one of the other realms from either picking a fight or making an ill fated alliance with the new powerhouse, The Allfather reached out in peace.  


Loki had accompanied most of the convoys to Midgard. All agreed that he was much better suited for diplomacy than Thor. All Thor’s presence seemed to do was make the mortals feel weak and uneasy, although he had successfully charmed one of the female diplomats. On his several trips to Earth, Loki found a fascinating but dingy world. The only light came from windows or special poles, few of the buildings shown. Trash and dirt collected in the streets, behind walls, and in every nook and cranny. Only the elite lived in a civilized manner while the vast populace lived a mindless existence as cogs in the great machine.  


Only a few of the lower class questioned their pitiful existence or cared to listen to the songs of the past. All they seemed to do was bark at their leaders like chained dogs. In his time there Loki had watched their ‘television’ as citizens argued over the prospect of a treaty with Asgard, a large number of the population seemed to insist that the whole situation was simply a hoax. When Loki mentioned the unrest to a Miguardian diplomat, the man laughed it off as ineffectual.  


Loki, like most of Asgard, had not expected much from Earth. However, he was truly surprised by what he saw there. They were a horridly backwater world in many regards but oddly advanced in others. Their planet was divided into almost two-hundred countries and the amount of infighting was ridiculous. Their governments varied and suffered from different degrees of corruption and ineffectiveness. There didn’t even seem to be a plan for uniting the lands. Everything felt haphazard and made up on the spot. Those in charge got there though money and empty promises rather than skill. Their technology was mighty but it wavered like a building with poor foundations. In some parts of the world it was commonplace to carry a handheld device that could perform a vast number of tasks and communicate with similar devices. Meanwhile other countries were still tribal, it did not strike Loki as a sound system. They had rather impressive mechanical horses and had vehicles to allow public flight but most of their inventions continued to be powered by fuel dug out of the ground. Although, the diplomats insisted that their science was on the cusp of fixing that energy dependency.  


It was refreshing to take a sight-seeing trip out of the many cities the diplomats wanted to show off and into the countryside. No matter the realm, farmers and small communities retained a familiar atmosphere. Even in a place as foreign as Midgard families lived off the land and spent the evening collected in the best town tavern for gossip. Children remained the same as well, the games were different but the laughter was the same. They chased each other through the streets, fought with sticks, and argued over who would play the hero and the villain. The most noticeable difference in the fields was nature, not the people. Their wildlife was unfamiliar and much less dangerous than what roamed the mountains back home. They carried weapons to protect themselves from other humans, not to fight off beasts that wished to eat them. This most likely accounted for the low percentage of warriors in their population.  


The army they had, however, proved to be as threatening as Father predicted. Each of their ‘nuclear missiles’ held enough explosive power to destroy a warship. The average foot solider could barely hold his or her own against an Asgardian of the same rank, but the handful of elite soldiers introduced to the Asgardians were a serious threat.  


To test their metal, Thor challenged every warrior he met to combat. Loki did not expect them to respond. But one solider with the title of “Captain” engaged Thor in an unarmed bout inside a padded ring. Loki and the other diplomats watched from the sidelines as the two blond men fought until a friendly draw was called. The display made the Midgardians uneasy but at least Thor became enthusiastic about creating a treaty after meeting a worthy opponent. Also, he thankfully spent the rest of the trip speaking with the captain and left Loki blissfully alone to talk with the diplomats.  


It had taken months of deliberation. Loki was becoming tempted to let the humans destroy themselves and to then return in an Asgardian generation once they had rebuilt. The humans were hesitant, like all primitive people are towards outsiders, but in the end a truce was forged. The realms agreed to peace and exchange of knowledge. In the event of an outside attack, one world would lend aid to the other. Loki had insisted on a clause that specified outside enemies, Asgard would not become embroiled in a squabble of mortal nations.  


The terms of the alliance were not particularly expansive. Still, distrust rolled off the Midgardians in waves. They feared for their history, their way of life, their governments, and even that they might become Asgardian slaves. To ease this tension Allfather and the Queen Mother agreed to a human custom called “an embassy”. The humans were granted a patch of land in one of the warmer parts of Asgard to call their own. In exchange the humans gave them a holding of the exact same size in a snowy land named “Canada”.  


Allfather placed Loki in charge of overseeing the construction of a settlement in Midgard and communicating with the humans who came to Asgard. It was Loki’s first royal task to complete alone. He immediately sent over a troop of scholars and farmers to survey the land while he reviewed plans with the architects, and ignored all “helpful” suggestions from Thor. He greeted the humans that made their way into Asgard to build their own base. Son of Coul the overseer and Stark Man of Iron the warrior and scholar, lead the team. The Man of Iron seemed similar to Thor, although much smarter, so Loki kept an eye on the Midgardian as he built a blue, glowing power generator for the embassy.  


Even with the embassies agreed upon, there was concern that the more primitive populace may have a vicious uprising. The leaders might laugh at what the lower class said on “TV” but if the Asgardians continued to be unpopular with the masses then the next generation of Earth’s upper-class might be less inclined to keep a treaty. Thor’s suggestion to this was, naturally, a great event of sporting or adventure with the Midgardian warriors. Loki had to explain to him that the humans would not be comforted by seeing their mightiest bested by Asgardians in any form.  


The Queen Mother spent many hours studying Earth culture and watching their television broadcasts. She observed that marriage was considered an important and fascinating ceremony in all Earth cultures. She used this knowledge to approach the human diplomats with the suggestion of a symbolic, heavily celebrated marriage between an individual from each realm. The humans agreed enthusiastically to her proposal as long as Prince Loki Odinson would be the representative from Asgard. They argued that he was already the most popular public image associated with the peace treaty also humans were apparently fascinated by the idea of royalty. They insisted a royal wedding would win over the majority of the populace and ensure Earth as an ally to Asgard for generations.  


Loki voiced his displeasure at marrying a Midgardian but his parents chose to make the deal. Odin lectured Loki on how it was an ancient and noble duty of royalty to marry for peace. The Queen was sympathetic to her son’s discomfort and promised that she would not let him marry a shrew. The humans had no problem with her condition to personally examine every possible human maiden before agreeing to a betrothal. In fact, a day after the news of wedding plans was made public, the humans created several programs about hopeful young women. The Queen Mother’s speech listing her criteria, young adult, female, of a quality bloodline, must have some talent in womanly pursuits, already a warrior or able to learn combat, and must not be a burden to her son, was broadcast a thousand times.  


Predictably, Thor greatly enjoyed the whole ordeal. Loki could only escape his brotherly harassment by hiding in Canada under the guise of getting the fortress erected quickly. Thor and his destructive merry band of four friends made a very public trip to Earth to confront several of the hopeful maidens. They made a fuss about how they would never let anyone unworthy marry their friend Loki. Thor even told a particularly unpleasant woman that if she went anywhere near his brother he would take great offense and would challenge her or her male family member to a duel. Loki later told Thor that he appreciated the show of support but could handle his own troubles without creating a spectacle that quickly became the talk of both realms. By the end of the month, Loki felt sure that news of his wedding had reached even Jotunheim.  


Eventually, The Queen Mother found a worthy candidate. The king and queen of Asgard and a council of humans met. They agreed on monetary matters and set a date for the ceremony. Loki didn’t hear about any of this until after the fact. In the middle of clearing construction plans for the embassy his mother arrived to let him know the arrangements for his matrimony without Thor lurking nearby. She gave Loki a portrait of his betrothed. She explained that the search was not nearly as dramatic as the commoners believed. She mostly spoke with people of power to review candidates they brought to her and held tame interviews with every promising sounding young woman. Loki looked gloomily at the face of an attractive human woman. No disrespect to his lady mother, but he could not entirely believe her assurances that this woman would be a wonderful wife for him.  


The following period of time was a mess of work, royal announcements, and perorations. He received new ceremonial dress for the occasion. Mother made him rehearse Earthling wedding traditions, as the ceremony would be a mix of both. In the midst of the wedding madness, Thor and The Warriors Three dragged Loki into the mountains for a final adventure before his wedding. Sif didn’t come, instead she stayed behind as a member of the bridal party in order to spy on the human bride-to-be. Loki half-hoped that she would find evidence enough to call of the wedding but nothing surfaced.  


So now here he is, getting dressed for his arranged marriage to a mortal woman he has never met.  
“Mother has truly out done herself, Brother.” Thor strolls through the doorway with his normal exuberance. “Half of Asgard is in attendance and I counted thirteen of those human recording devices around the castle.” Loki doesn’t bother to stifle a sigh. Thor thumps a hand onto his shoulder. “This is your wedding day. You can not greet your bride with a frown.”  
“I never wanted to marry this way,” Loki grumbles as he fidgets with his sleeve.  
“As Father said, ‘it is the duty of royalty’. Perhaps if you had not charmed every Midgardian in sight, I would be the groom today.”  
“Father would never have married off his first born,” Loki scoffs.  
“Not true, Brother. Creating this peace is a great honor. Any warrior would gladly take your place. Even I find myself almost jealous.”  
“Thor, don’t you dare mock me now. I have this duty because yours is to breed heirs to the throne.” Loki gives him a withering look.  
“I do not mock. You may yet have children, we do not know if the Midgardians are fertile. And your betrothed is one to envy. The Man of Iron speaks highly of her. He says she is of great beauty and martial skill. The Captain tells me she is the last member of her noble warrior family.”  
“Or at least what passes for warriors on Midgard.”  
“Perhaps they exaggerate her skill but not her beauty. Just now I spoke with Lady Sif, she says that you are lucky to have such a bride.”  
“I could do worse, I suppose.”  
“That is better! You are not being led to your death.”  
“If I was being led to my death I would have fled by now,” Loki retorts as he adjusts his long formal cape.  
“I will not be surprised if you disappear in the middle of the feast and leave an illusion in your place.”  
“I considered it, but Mother and Father would never be fooled.” Thor gives a bark of laughter and claps his brother on the shoulder again.  


A polite knock sounds on the door to signal it is time for them to go.  
“Ready, Brother?” Thor asks cheerfully.  
“As I’ll ever be.” Loki steals one last look at himself in the mirror. Everything is in order, his clothing is immaculate, he looks every bit the powerful prince that he his, no doubt the mortals will be thrilled. He follows Thor out of the dressing room.  
They stand in line in the hallway outside the grand hall. Entering the room in a specific order is one of the Earthling traditions Mother and the other event planners have woven into the wedding. Thor stands directly behind and to the right of Loki. Behind him are the rest of the ‘groom’s men’, traditionally the groom’s friends and guards. Loki has the Warrior’s Three.  
Music starts to play. Most of the instruments are from Asgard but the tune is Earthly.  


“Give them a good show, Bother.” Thor gives him an encouraging nudge.  
“You walk behind me.” Loki shoves him in return. He wouldn’t put it past Thor to jump in front if he thought he could get away with it. Thor grins but doesn’t reply as the doors begin to move.  
With the mighty creak of ancient wood and metal, two guards slowly pull open the massive doors to the grand room. A hush fills the space beyond. Loki takes advantage of the brief lull to survey the decorations and the mass number of citizens that fill the seats. He makes sure that nobody sees his momentary pause and steps forward with the air of a prince. Clapping and happy shouts greeted him from the Asgardian citizens while the humans smile but stay mostly silent. Loki looks as regal as he can manage. He subtly flairs his cape and gives a princely wave to the gathered crowd. He can feel Thor enter a few steps behind him but thankfully the sounds of joy don’t get noticeably louder at the appearance of his brother, that would ruin his already stressful day. He spares a quick glance behind him but Thor is only waving and not being too much of an attention thief.  
Loki strides down the long carpet to where the Allfather, the Queen Mother, and a few mortal officials stand waiting. He takes his place on the right side and waits while Thor and the Warriors Three fall in behind him. Once they all are at attention, the bride’s party begins their march. Oddly, the first one to appear is a man. He starts to walk down the isle with a nod and brief wave at the audience. Lady Sif and two other human women follow him from the hall. The humans wear unarmored dark blue dresses and a suit and Lady Sif apparently decided to compromise because she wears a dark blue robe over her best armor.  


Then, the music shifts and a figure in white appears in the doorway. As per human tradition, she wears a flowing white dress, carries a bouquet of flowers, and wears a veil. A slow march echoes through the hall as everyone watches her approach. She appears to have a good figure, from what Loki could see from the fit of her dress. Her bright red hair isn’t entirely covered by the veil and Loki notices that it is shorter than in her portrait. It seems to take no time at all before she reaches the rest of the group. She pauses in front of her male attendant to hand him her flowers then she joins Loki in front of The Allfather. Loki watches intently as she flicks her veil up in an easy movement. Two intensely sharp, light colored eyes appear from behind the fabric. Loki makes sure to give her the easiest, most charming smile he can manage at the moment. Her thin lips quirk upwards slightly and she gives him a small nod before turning to face The Allfather.  


Odin strikes his spear against the ground to instantly end the excited chatter from the audience. The musicians play only a few notes more then grow silent.  
“My family, my friends, my subjects, my guests, and my allies, we are here to bind my son and the maiden of Earth Realm in sacred communion. Out of respect for our guests, they will first be bound under Earth law.” The Allfather takes one step to the side and two officials from Midgard came forward.  


The elderly man wearing white robes begins a speech about marriage and promises between spouses. Loki knows what to expect and waits calmly for his cue to speak.  
“Do you, Loki Odinson, take Natasha Romanoff,” the man finally addresses Loki and he waits for the question to end.  
“I do,” he says. The man nods and repeats the question to the woman.  
“I do,” she answers in a calm voice.  
“Then by the power invested in me I declare you husband and wife. You may exchange rings.” Thor eagerly steps forward and wordlessly holds out the box he had been carrying. Loki takes the smaller ring and slides it onto Natasha’s extended hand. It goes on easily so he remembered the correct finger, in practice he kept putting it on the middle one. Natasha barely pauses and takes her ring from Thor. Loki holds out his left hand and she puts the gold band onto his second to last finger. He almost expected her hands to shake at the ceremony but she is completely steady. Thor steps back into place, looking immensely pleased with himself.  


While the human in robes switches places with the other man, Loki takes a moment to flex his hand. Wearing matching jewelry was a very simple, yet, effective custom to recognize a married individual from an unmarried one. Although, rings could be cumbersome or easily lost in combat so it made sense Asgardians didn’t have a similar tradition. The second human held a manuscript and a pen. Loki read the document earlier so he quickly signs the document. Natasha followed his example without comment. The man smiles and nods then steps back.  


Odin returns to the center and begins his own speech. It is short and to the point so very quickly he declares them married under the laws of Asgard. That done he announces it is time for the official feast. Normally a feast for the bride’s and groom’s families was how Asgardians completed a marriage; the ceremony had been arranged for the benefit of the humans. Loki and his new wife walk side by side through the back door while the crowd claps and hollers. It is a bit of a walk through the palace to reach where the feast is being held, Loki glances at her but she seems to know the way. They head up a long staircase and come out on the roof terrace. Several long tables are set up waiting for them. Also by the humans’ request, weapons had not been allowed during the ceremony.  


Loki goes to his seat at the head of the table. His daggers and short sword sit in front of his chair. He picks up his weapons and eyes the collection of items stacked in Natasha’s spot. The woman practically lunges forward and snatches them up. Loki doesn’t get a good look at much of the weaponry but recognizes a belt of small daggers. With no visible shame, Natasha hikes up her white skirt to secure a few holsters to her legs. Loki also forgoes shame as he marvels at her shapely appendages.  


Mjolnir hums and flies into Thor’s hand before he even sits down. The rest of the parties gather at the tables. Loki takes note of the Earthlings. The man in Natasha’s party retrieves a bow and quiver from the table and the two women each have a small “gun” and holster.  


Loki sheathes his weapons and holds his cloak to sit down. Natasha finishes with her weaponry. She sweeps her long skirt aside and perches in the ornate wooden chair that no doubt weighs three times what her lithe body does. Loki looks about at the remaining few collect their positions and take a seat. In the gardens below and all across both realms commoners gather at their own tables to feast in celebration of the wedding and new alliance.  


Odin begins the toasts. Around the table everyone says words of blessing.  
“To our marriage,” Loki says and raises his glass in turn.  
“To a successful alliance.” Natasha gently knocks her glass against his then takes a gulp of wine. Loki drinks and muses that she too is doing this for the sake of her people. Odin finishes the toasts and sits back down as the feast begins. An army of servants appear with wine and steaming platters. The Allfather, Queen Mother and several elderly Midguardians began a conversation at their table placed next to the one Loki and Natasha headed. The rest of the guests follow their lead and exchange greetings with those sitting nearby.  


“Brother, will you not introduce us?” Thor speaks up as servants place bowls of bread in fruit in the middle of the table.  
“Impatient as always.” Loki sets his cup down as the rest of the table looks in his direction. “My closest friends and company. My brother, Thor. The Warriors Three, Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun. And you have already met Lady Sif.” The Asgardians wave in turn and Natasha nods.  
“It is a pleasure to meet you all. Now allow me to introduce my friends, Clint Barton, Maria Hill, and Valentina Allegra de la Fontaine, but just call her Valentina.”  
“Shield brothers,” the man, Clint Barton, pipes up. “That’s the best Asgardian word for us. Nat and I have been through a lot together. Hold it, I don’t want wine,” he addresses the server. “Which one of you has soda?” A human server smiles and pours him a glass.  
“Soda, Barton?” Maria Hill asks.  
“This feast is three days long I’d be plastered by the end.”  
“Plastered?” Thor repeats.  
“Drunk, falling on my face,” Barton elaborates.  
“Hah, so it is true that Midgardians can not hold your drink,” Fandral laughs.  
“That sounds like a challenge, Blondy.” Valentina waves over a server. “I’ve drunk life long alcoholics to a draw. I’ll take you on.” Fandral gives the woman one of his charming smiles.  
“I’m not a lightweight,” Barton adds, “I just don’t like drinking in excess, it messes with my aim.”  
“No worries, Archer, this is a happy occasion. Enjoy the best food and drink of Asgard,” Volstagg says happily while stacking his plate high.  
“I certainly intend to celebrate to the fullest. My troublesome brother has a wife. I never thought this day would come.”  
“You say that, yet, I’m married before you are,” Loki automatically returns his brother’s mocking.  
“Two handsome princes, I’m sure you’ve had lots of suitors,” Maria Hill speaks calmly while ripping apart a bread roll.  
“We did, but Loki would chase all the girls away with his little tricks.”  
“You were no better. The only girl to put up with your boasting was Sif.”  
“I weather much from both of you,” Sif teases from her seat.  
“I hear that,” Maria raises her glass to Sif briefly.  
“Tell us of war in Midgard,” Hogun speaks up suddenly.  
“Only if you return the favor. Do you guys still fight with swords?” Barton answers.  
“You use a bow, Barton, you have no room to talk. I want to know exactly how much of our legends about you are true,” Maria Hill says.  
“More than you may think,” Fandral winks at Valentina over the rim of his wine goblet. The human woman seems unimpressed, which of course just spurs Fandral on. Almost immediately the tension at the table dissipates as the group begins to share stories of adventure and culture. Loki takes a quick glance around. It seems most of the other noble Asgardians and high ranking humans also found topics of easy conversation. From the nearby table, The Queen Mother catches Loki’s eye and sends him a quick smile.  


Thor draws his attention back to the table by jostling his arm and insisting he join in the story of their adventures in Nordinheim. On a normal day Thor’s tales are all about himself, any part others played was simply a supporting role. However, when he talks with Natasha he doesn’t tease Loki about his parts in their battles or harp on his own heroism as much as usual. Thor looks to Loki in between stories and gives him a pleased grin, no doubt feeling good about temporarily keeping his ego in check. Loki rolls his eyes.  


The humans have stories of their own. Barton pesters Natasha into helping him tell about a battle they fought in a place called “Budapest” where they warred their way to a high tower and held off an invading force. Partway through the tale they realize that they have very different recollections of the event and spend almost half an hour arguing about it. Loki can’t help but feel a touch of warmth at the familiar tone of their discussion.  


Maria Hill and Sif carry on an animated talk about men who don’t like women to succeed. Valentina continues to match Fandral drink for drink and listens to Volstagg’s ramblings. Guests occasionally get up from their spots to say a few words to Loki and Natasha, mostly just to voice their congratulations.  
As the sun begins to set and the first torches are lit, the servants bring Midgardian food to the table. Naturally, this sparks a great deal of discussion. Volstagg insists on trying everything and then hearing an extensive history of the dish. Fandral and Valentina argue about different types of alcoholic drinks while Hogun half-joins them and half-referees. Loki and Natasha share amused smirks as they watch Barton and Thor attempt to describe different animal species to each other, which involves a lot of pantomiming and using their fingers as horns.  


For the first time since the feast began, Natasha turns to Loki and directly engages him in conversation. They have a short discussion about the differences in life span, energy, and technology between the two realms before returning their attention back to their loud companions.  


The table becomes friendlier as the night goes on. When one of the human “camera men” comes to the roof, Barton lobs an apple core at him. Which then escalates to more food throwing until the Allfather and a few humans from his table give the perpetrators icy glares.  


After the human beats a hasty retreat, Fandral and Valentina decide it is time for their final show down. They have their friends pour drinks of equal volume and begin to down them one for one. By the third, neither shows any sign of dropping and everyone is watching them with rapt attention. Volstagg cheers on his companion while Maria Hill chants encouragement to Valentina. Clint Barton starts collecting bets on who will win. Natasha chooses to side with Fandral instead of her friend. Loki also fully expects the warrior to win but Thor wavers when he sees how steady Valentina’s grip is. Finally, in a lull between goblets, the stone steady mortal woman suddenly sways once and collapses. Fandral yells in victory louder than necessary. Valentina mutters something about hating everyone and everything into the table. Fandral declares the woman a worthy foe and a beautiful maiden in between cheering for himself. Maria Hill and Sif carry the grumbling Valentina away from the table. Only a little while after they leave, Hogun declares Fandral too drunk for conversation and drags the still happily babbling man away to sleep it off.  


From there the feast continues at an easy pace. Musicians and dancers arrive to entertain the gathering. They tell tales of Asgardian battles intermixed with stories and songs from Earth. Between performances they share extra information about the music with those who don’t know it. People leave the tables intermittently throughout the feast. More than once Loki notices Natasha dozing in her chair while sitting upright. As is proper, Loki and Natasha wouldn’t share a bed until the end of the feast. Traditionally, one family could horridly offend the other over the feast tables and the wedding could still be called off. Not that that would happen here, obviously.  


Their conversations range from light hearted to serious. Loki learns both that Natasha’s favorite color is red and that her entire family has been dead for years. Thor is thrilled to have a new audience for his tales of glory. When prompted he happily adds stories of Loki’s and his youth. Loki keeps busy by correcting much of his narratives. The humans eagerly share pieces of their adventures and Natasha’s life. Loki notices but does not comment on the fact that their chronicles do not mention Natasha’s girl hood.  


When Valentina comes back to the tables, Natasha glances around.  
“I’ll throw the bouquet now.” She moves to stand up. Loki casts a quick spell to get everyone’s attention.  
“Unmarried women gather with the bride.” Immediately, the human women, including several servers, get to their feet. Sif and the other Asgardian women follow reluctantly. Everyone watches as Natasha faces the wall and the excited women form themselves into a group behind her. This must be an incredibly important ritual on Earth considering how the human women elbow each other for a good place.  


Without looking Natasha throws the bouquet of flowers over her shoulder. For a moment it’s in freefall then the pushing begins. The Asgardians may not understand the custom but they understand competition and they have no problem joining in the struggle for the falling flowers. A mighty wrestling match later, and a triumphant shout rises above the womanly shrieks. One of the musicians, a short but broad shouldered woman, clutches the flowers to her breast to shield it from her competitors with her body. She holds it aloft with triumph and the gathering claps for her. Some of the perspective women smile while others don’t bother to hide their disappointment.  


Natasha returns to the table with an amused grin. Valentina slinks back to her chair while muttering “Damn.” Sif and Maria Hill don’t seem to care either way.  
“That ceremony, it is for fertility?” Thor guesses.  
“Supposedly however catches the bouquet will be the next woman of the wedding party to be married. It’s a very popular theme in Earth culture,” Natasha explains. Loki spares a look to the victor. She has returned to her post with her flute-like instrument but has the flowers stored under her chair. One of the male players seems to be eyeing her fondly.  


On the third day they all seem a little tired of talking. So, they share ideas for party and drinking games. The Midguardian games are mostly about embarrassment rather than skill. The humans all become excited about something called “Truth or Dare” and insist they play. Natasha simply shrugs and it will be a way to get to know everyone better.  


Maria Hill quickly explains the rules. “We’ll split into two teams, Asgardians and humans. We take turns asking a person on the other team ‘truth or dare’. When asked, you can choose either ‘truth’ or ‘dare’. If you choose truth then the other team can ask you any question and you have to answer truthfully. If you choose dare then you have to complete one challenge, such as ‘drink a whole glass of Earth beer’ or ‘stand on your chair and sing a song’. You can’t change your mind after choosing one. If you refuse to answer your question or complete your dare then you are out of the game. The first team to have all of their members drop out looses. Understood?”  
“What can these challenges be?” Thor asks.  
“Anything that doesn’t involve injury and can be completed in a few minutes.”  
“You have a smaller team,” Hogun points out.  
“Doesn’t scare me,” Valentina smiles in challenge.  
“This is a common party game on Earth. I’m sure the numbers will even out quickly,” Maria Hill adds.  
“I accept this competition,” Thor declares. Loki and the other Asgardians indicate their agreement.  
“Alright, bride goes first,” Barton decides. Natasha scans the gathering with a calculating gaze.  
“Fandral, truth or dare?” The blond perks up at the attention.  
“I choose a challenge,” he beams.  
“Go up to every unmarried woman among the guests, musicians and serving staff and tell her that she is ugly and you do not wish to speak with her ever again.” Fandral gapes at the woman as she calmly leans her elbows on the table and interlocks her fingers.  
“Typical Nat, straight for the jugular,” Barton grins. Loki and the other Asgardians laugh or smile. Fandral twits his face into a look of serious contemplation.  
“Admit defeat, friend, it’s not worth it,” Volstagg offers his advice.  
“I want to see this. How many single women are here?” Sif glances around.  
“Ah, I can not insult beautiful maidens in such a way. Well played, My Lady.”  
“She may be worthy of you after all, Brother,” Thor says. Loki ignores him.  


“I suppose it is my turn.” Loki considers his opponents. He has questions for Natasha but Valentina is likely the easiest to defeat. “Valentina, truth or dare?”  
“I’ll brave a dare.”  
“Have the muscicians play a tune and sing a song about how Asgardians will always be able to out drink humans.”  
“Fine,” Valentina huffs and goes over to the performers. She turns out to have a good singing voice but her lyrics are obviously made up on the spot. By the time she finishes everyone at the feast is holding back laughter.  
“Alright,” Barton returns attention to their game, “Mr. Romanoff, truth or dare?” the man looks to Loki with a thinly veiled challenge.  
“Truth.” An interrogation from his wife’s shield brother is to be expected.  
“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?” The prince takes a moment to consider.  
“Enabled Thor’s life threatening antics.” Thor gives him a startled look.  
“Fair enough. Your turn, Thor,” Maria Hill nods to the older prince.  
“Natasha, question or challenge?”  
“Truth,” the woman answers right away.  
“Tell us of your first battle,” the prince looks to her expectantly.  
“Hmm,” Natasha pressers her fingers to her lips. “I was a child. The mission was to infiltrate a safe house and capture any assets hiding there. I was the only one small enough to climb through the drainage pipes into the basement. I killed two guards and opened the back door for the rest of the team. The others did the rest of the fighting that mission, I just guarded the exit.” There is silence for a moment. Loki just takes a second to process what she said and then another to notice that the humans seem uncomfortable by the conversation.  


“Volstagg, truth or dare?” Maria Hill jumps in.  
“Dare,” he answers with a purposely booming voice.  
“Take those two plates of food,” the woman points at two heaping platters, “and throw them in the garbage.”  
Volstagg gasps, “how horrid. Innocent food must suffer for this game?”  
“Are you going to do it?” Sif asks as several others at the table snicker.  
“If I must.” The big man takes the two platters and carries them away. “Oh food, so innocent, forgive me,” me moans while he dumps the food. Thor thumps him on the back encouragingly as he sits back down at the table with two empty plates.  
“Archer Clint Barton, truth or dare?” Hogun speaks up suddenly. Barton eyes the other man for a moment before choosing.  
“Truth.”  
“Of your six opponents do you think would be the easiest and hardest for you to kill in combat?”  
“You’ve picked up on this game very quickly,” Barton winces as the Asgardians all look at him expectantly. “Hardest I’ll say Thor, just because wind powers and arrows don’t mix. And easiest…” he takes quick stock of The Warriors Three’s and Sif’s weapons. “Volstagg.” Volstagg gives him a look and Barton holds up a hand defensively. “Your comrades look better equipped for arrow dodging, is all.”  


“My turn now,” Valentina says. “Prince Thor, truth or dare?”  
“Ask your question.”  
“What is your worst fear?”  
“I have no fears,” Thor answers immediately.  
“Oh, that is such a lie!” Barton laughs.  
“If you don’t tell the truth then you are out of the game,” Natasha says calmly.  
Thor pouts for a moment before answering. “The loss of Mjolnir.”  
“Mjolnir?”  
“His war hammer,” Loki elaborates. Thor lifts the weapon proudly.  


The game continues from there. Volstagg is the next one out, after being unable to answer what his most favorite food is. Hogun pick pockets another guest. Maria Hill stands on the table to dance. It turns out to be a truly impressive dance called ‘tap’. Natasha confesses that, yes, she does find Loki handsome. Sif is challenged to kiss Fandral but she gets away with just a peck on the cheek. Maria Hill drops out when she fails to drink a glass of the strongest Asgardian Ale without gagging. Loki admits to three of his past pranks. Valentina looses when she can’t answer a question about her past, due to it being ‘classified’. Hogun abandons the game rather than smile when challenged to.  


Natasha shouts out insults to Heimdall without blinking. Thor looses when Natasha trips him up with a word puzzle. Barton surrenders when Loki dares him to let Thor fire three arrows from his bow. The archer reluctantly lets the prince hold it but the when he saw Thor fumble with the string he immediately snatches back his beloved weapon. Sif grumbles and admits defeat when she is dared to sing the praises of every man who ever doubted her. This leaves the newlyweds as the last two standing.  


“Why did you agree to this marriage?” Loki asks his wife.  
“The same reasons you did. I was chosen for the job, it’s my duty to follow orders, and it’s far too good an opportunity to pass up,” she answers in a hushed tone that won’t carry far. She then leans back in her chair slightly. “Want to end there?”  
“No. Ask me a question,” Loki chooses to push the situation a little farther to see where it will lead. Most of the others have started chatting amongst themselves and not paying full attention to the game anymore.  
“Aside from the peace treaty, where do you hope this marriage will lead?”  
“Ideally, our relationship will be strong and happy.”  
“Aye.” Thor leans towards Natasha. “Although our meeting was sudden, I hope to one day call you ‘sister’. You are of Asgard, now. Tales of my brother should end with him returning from battle to his beautiful and faithful wife.”  
“I did not realize you were so invested in my happiness, Brother.”  
“We are brothers, Loki. I wish only the best for you.” Thor places a hand on his little brother’s neck and gave him the most loving look he can manage. Loki smiles softly in return.  
“I surrender the game,” Natasha says around a sip of her drink  
“Then as my prize, I’ll take a kiss.” The red haired woman smiles shyly and leans in. Loki stifles the temptation to smirk. Her lips are soft and pliant against his. She mimics his movement and gives a small sigh when he places a hand on the back of her head to hold her closer.  
Loki tilts his head to continue but is interrupted by a whistle. His wife pulls away to glare at her companion. “What? It was a complement,” the archer smirks.  
“Shut up, Clint.” Natasha grabs her discarded veil from under the table and throws it in his face. The man chuckles and arranges the white cloth on his own head.  
“Does it suit me?” Valentina laughs along and stands behind his chair to help him adjust the garment. Loki privately frowns, the archer reminds him increasingly of Thor.  
“Sorry about him,” Natasha leans back towards him and whispers with an apologetic smile.  
“Oh, I share the sentiment.” Loki sends a meaningful glare to his brother that who is currently waving a large bone in the air and bellowing for more meat.  
“At least we have one thing in common. It’s a start.” Natasha laughs softly and places a hand on his arm. Loki experimentally touches her hand and interlocks their fingers. He can feel her smooth ring nestled between them.  
“I suppose.”  


The final day of the feast comes to a close with another round of toasts. Odin and a Midgardian official give the new couple their blessing. The guests, once again, express their congratulations. Loki nods to the gathering as he stands. Natasha, Thor, and Maria Hill follow him away from the tables. In the hallway Thor and Maria are each handed a torch. The newlyweds and their witnesses walk together through the nighttime darkness on a preplanned route. The buildings of Asgard are unusually quiet and empty. Their troupe comes to a stop at a door.  


“Good night,” Maria Hill says calmly and professionally. Thor opens his mouth but Loki sends him a glare. The prince changes whatever he was about to say to a simple, “yes, good night.”  
Natasha nods and tests the door which opens without resistance. Loki spares a final glance to the other two then follows her inside. He locks the door behind them while Natasha surveys their home. Loki has already seen the building but clearly she hasn’t. He allows her a minute to complete her appraisal before walking to the bedroom and beginning to remove his first layer of clothes. Most of his armor is hung properly in his closet by the time Natasha appears. They lock eyes for a second.  


“Anything you want to say?” she asks.  
“No.”  
“I’m not used to sharing a bed. I might lash out or try to attack you in my sleep. Also, I usually sleep with my weapons but until I know I won’t stab you I’ll keep them out of reach,” Natasha recites. She quickly and effectively begins to unbuckle and set her items aside.  


Loki places the last piece of his armor in its proper place and turns to his bride. He reaches out to run a hand through her hair. She leans into his touch with a shy smile.  
“Shall we?” he says in his most seductive voice. Her smile becomes more self-assured. She meets him half way for their second kiss. She hums with appreciation as his silver tongue slides between her lips. Small strong fingers caress his shoulders when he pulls her closer. He helps her remove her dress and she sits on the bed while he sheds his remaining clothing.  
She’s truly beautiful sprawled on the bed sheets, moaning and writhing beneath him. Afterwards they share intimate kisses. They’re both tired and stressed so they pull the covers around them to sleep. Natasha settles at his side, at her proper place. Before dozing into sleep, Loki decides that he will be able to live with this the rest of his life without complaint.  


A shuffling and unfamiliar muttering pulls Loki out of his dreamless sleep. He blinks to drowsy awareness. The source of the noise is another person lying in his bed. It takes a second to recognize the lean shoulders of his new wife. His half-asleep mind doesn’t think twice about scooting closer to her warmth and nuzzling into the back of her neck. She snorts once then grows silent.  


When Loki wakes up the second time his new heat source is gone. He can hear movement in an adjacent room. It’s morning so he gets out of bed and gets dressed in casual clothing. He finds Natasha going through boxes in the front room. She wears pants and a shirt of Midgardian design.  


“Good morning. The servants dropped off my things. I couldn’t go back to sleep and didn’t want to disturb you.” She looks up with a kind smile.  
“I need to settle in myself. But first, breakfast?”  
“Sure. Where is that?”  
“You’re royalty now. The servants will bring anything you need.”  
“Just a small loaf of bread and a glass of water, thanks.” Natasha picks a crate of clothing and heads towards the bedroom. Loki lets her unpack and calls for the servants.  


Natasha is still organizing her wardrobe when their morning meal arrives. Loki sits at their dinning table to eat. In a minute Natasha joins him. She looks ready to grab her roll and go back to her luggage so Loki stops her. They discuss storage space, when they each plan to wake up, and basic daily schedules. Natasha makes no demands and insists that the provided space and commodities are more than enough. Loki gets the feeling that she’s unfamiliar with living in luxury. He figures it is better than marrying a demanding noble woman so he doesn’t comment.  


They finish eating then return to organizing the new rooms. Loki has a large collection of texts, magical artifacts, and items from his childhood. Other than clothes, jewelry, weapons, training gear, and cosmetics Natasha only owns three small electronic devices, two framed pieces of artwork, and a small box of old, ornate knives. He lets her hang her artwork on the walls of her choice before arranging his few tapestries and wall hangings. To his surprise, Natasha seems genuinely interested in everything he owns. She hovers in the doorway to watch as he arranges most of his books, maps, and everything needed for his current duty of overseeing the embassy construction in a room now claimed as his study. She examines every weapon and artifact and flips through a few of his texts but explains she doesn’t know the language very well yet. He encourages her quiet curiosity by explaining several of his possessions.  


The servants bring them lunch which they eat between emptying boxes. Natasha’s meal includes a golden apple. She must eat one every day to keep her strength and longevity at Asgardian levels. Only once they finish unpacking does it occur to them to check on everyone else. Natasha grabs a jacket made of black leather on her way to the door. Loki leads her from their chambers back towards the castle. Not far from their chambers, waits a guard. He addresses them the moment he sees them.  


“My Lord and Lady, the Queen Mother requests the princess’ attendance in her chambers.”  
“More clothing fittings, I imagine,” Natasha says without excitement.  
“Shall I escort you?” Loki holds out his arm. It’s their first day together, acting as a gracious husband won’t hurt.  
“Thank you.” Natasha takes his arm and lets him lead her towards the Queen’s chambers.  
They only get halfway there before being interrupted by a shout.  
“So, you two finally show up.” The voice comes from the top of a statue where a man sits.  
“Clint, what are you doing?” Natasha calls up to the archer.  
“Just looking. Gotta love the architecture in this place.”  
“Where’s everyone else?” she asks.  
“Valentina, and several of the other agents already headed back. Volstagg and Fandral are with the servants and feast leftovers. Last I checked, Hill, Hogun, Thor, and Sif were playing with targets in the courtyard. And the queen wants to measure you for more princess clothes. Nat the princess, never thought I’d say that.”  
“And you’re appreciating the architecture?” Loki says disbelievingly.  
“He does that a lot,” Natasha shrugs it off. “Let’s not keep the queen waiting.”  
“Walk with us, Archer, I will speak with you while the women dress,” Loki calls up to Barton. He’s inspired to speak with the man who knows his wife so well.  
“How can I deny a request like that?” The human tosses a black rope from his perch and slides down with ease. Once on the ground it takes him but a moment to winch the cord around a small device and place it on his belt.  


The archer falls in step next to Natasaha. Walking side by side in silence is clearly familiar to both of them. The woman purposely relaxes towards Loki but they are still virtually strangers. They reach The Queen Mother’s chambers and are instantly met by the enthusiastic queen. She gives them a cheerful greeting then her hand maidens whisk Natasha inside for fittings. Loki knows if they dally mother will rope them into seeing everyone of Natasha’s outfits so he leads the archer in a hasty retreat. Barton gets the idea and doesn’t argue.  


“I suppose I owe you thanks,” Loki speaks up once they are a safe distance from the queen’s quarters. “I hear you saved my wife’s life many times.”  
“No more than she’s saved my sorry ass,” Barton remarks fondly. Loki mentally grins at getting him to open up so quickly.  
“She never struck you as the type for royalty?”  
“Royalty doesn’t do what we do, not on Earth anyway.”  
“Deceit and lies?”  
“Nah, that they do plenty,” the man almost laughs.  
“They don’t order executions?”  
“What I meant was they don’t get their hands dirty.” The amusement leaves his tone.  
It does not take Loki long to learn what he desires from the man. The archer did not deny him conversation and is easily prompted into supplying answers. He keeps tight lipped on details but that hardly matters. He’s able to gleam enough about his wife’s history to confirm his suspicions.  


The man is gravitating towards the training fields as they talk and Loki doesn’t stop him. They reach the open air and hear the sound of metal on metal.  
“Brother!” Thor waves. A collection of broken practice dummies are at his feet, which the servants hustle to reset. Loki waves back with one-tenth the enthusiasm. Hogun is sitting several feet away cleaning his mace. Maria Hill wields an Asguardian sword against Sif who offers advice in-between blocking blows with her shield.  
“Since I’m here,” Barton shakes his bow and it unfolds with a snap, “give me the hardest archery coarse you’ve got.” Loki holds back a smirk at the man, such a one-track mind.  
“Where be my new sister?”  
“Mother has her surrounded by seamstresses, I fear we won’t see her for days.” Thor smiles at the joke.  
“What is that?” Sif eyes the small ‘handgun’ Maria Hill holds.  
“One of humanity’s favorite inventions, it fires metal projectiles with explosive powder. I saw many of them in my time on Earth,” Loki answers.  
“You ever fired one?”  
“No.”  
“Want to try?”  
“Yes!” Sif volunteers, always eager to use new weapons.  


Maria Hill somehow finds several guns. She quickly shows the Asgardian’s how to use them. Sif shoots first and almost drops it when it goes off.  
“It moved!”  
“That’s the recoil.”  
“Why is it so loud?”  
“Now you know why I don’t use them,” Barton remarks.  
Loki plays along and takes a shot at the target. It jumps in his palm and fires a uselessly small projectile.  
“The target remains in tact,” Thor voices that problem.  
“The penetration is good, that’s all the matters.”  
“Don’t bother arguing with her, she refuses to admit the superiority of a bow and arrow.”  
“Shut up, Barton.”  


Sif is holding a “rifle” when Natasha appears. She walks into view wearing gleaming Asgardian armor and flanked by two servants. Her armor is red and black, lightweight and flexible, the finest quality leather and metal plates, and fully covering while still managing to show off her fine curves.  
“Looking good, Nat,” the archer calls. Loki immediately sends him a death glare. “In a completely not sexual way,” the man amends his statement.  


“I’ve been instructed to test the fit,” Natasha explains as she rolls her shoulders to shift the layers of protection. Loki nods and studies the rune designs pressed into her leather straps. Natasha stays still to accommodate his curiosity. There’s the symbol for the house of Odin, Loki’s name indicating she is his wife, an ancient symbol used to indicate a creature with a poisonous bite, and an hourglass shape that Loki doesn’t recognize.  
“A wrestling match between the newlyweds, then,” Thor declares.  
“What?” Loki snaps.  
“Come now, Brother, your wife is a warrior. You must engage her in friendly competition.”  
“Yes, that would be proper,” Loki considers. “Shall we?” he bows politely to his wife.  
“If you want to, then of course,” she nods. They all move from the archery range to a patch of ground specifically covered in soft, fine dirt. Loki and Natasha moved to the center while the others stood around it. “What are the rules?”  
“We try to pin or immobilize the other. No weapons. We avoid causing serious injury such as breaking bones. For politeness sake we’ll also remove strikes to the face and groin and drawing blood. We separate when one of us calls ‘mercy’, leaves the dirt, or the onlookers demand it.”  
“Alright. Start here?” Natasha shifts her weight into a ready stance. Loki nods and adjusts his own stance.  


“Begin!” Thor bellows. Natasha lungs forward experimentally. Loki knocks her off balance immediately. He watches her stumble and waits for her to regain her composure. She moves as if she is an untrained simpleton. Loki narrows his eyes in agitation.  


Loki grabs her arm and twists it into an unnatural position behind her back. She hisses and doesn’t struggle, probably expecting to released in a moment. Loki leans in close. Her hair brushes his face as he places his mouth by her ear.  
“I care not where you’ve come from or what life you’ve lived. You are my wife.” He growls into her ear and tightens his hold on her arm. “You do not lie to me. You will cease this act immediately.”  
Natasha turns to look at him then. Her gaze is vicious and hard. Loki suddenly finds his feet over his head. It’s a confusing blur as he lands on the soft dirt. She’s immediately on top of him, pinning his arm and shoulder in a painful position. He can hear surprised exclamations from the onlookers and a chuckle from Barton. Loki tries to move but only gets a twinge of pain for his efforts.  
“Mercy.” Instantly he feels her weight leave him. She’s back at her starting point, standing in a balanced fighting stance, waiting for him to stand.  


All her unsure and demure qualities have disappeared, replaced with something hard and venomous. Loki smirks as he gets to his feet. So this is her true face? Natasha’s pale eyes watch him intently without loosing focus on her surroundings, no longer hiding the fact that she is constantly searching for danger and weaknesses. Now all the stories of her past make sense. Her stance and expression are those of one whose spilt blood and fought to keep hers own in her veins.  
“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Natasha of Midgard.” He mummers loud enough for only her to hear and takes his fighting stance in preparation for the next bout. Natasha raises her left eyebrow slightly in acknowledgement.  


“Begin,” Thor says with much more interest than before. The woman lashes out with precision and speed Loki has little chance of countering. She lands a blow to his ribcage then spins around and takes out his knees. Loki falls to the dirt the same moment Thor calls “Hold!” Natasha retreats immediately. The prince sits upright and glares at his brother. “You can get a better start than that, Brother. Again,” the elder prince is excited now. Loki calmly stands and trains his eyes on his new wife. 

“Begin.”  
Loki is prepared this time. He block’s Natasha’s initial punch and dodges the subsequent, arching kick. What he is not prepared for, is the gravity defying athletic twist that follows after the kick and lands a strike to his gut. He takes the blow with grace and transitions immediately into a counter attack. She grabs his attacking arm and he attempts to pull away. Then suddenly she leaps and is upon him. Her slender body wraps his arm, both hands twisting fingers into a painful positions, and her legs a vice around his shoulder forcing him still.  


“Atta girl, Nat.” He hears the archer cheer from the sidelines. Even with the golden apple she is considerably weaker than him, not that that matters when her entire body is against a single of his limbs.  
“Mercy.” Natasha smoothly untangles herself from his arm. Loki takes a moment to rub feeling back into his fingers.  


The bystanders mutter amongst themselves about his wife’s sudden skill but Loki ignores them. “Again,” he drops into a balanced stance. He no longer underestimates her speed immediately leads with a feint and strike. Natasha blocks his punch at the last moment and tries to duck in close. Loki backs away immediately to prevent her from latching onto him again. The match lasts longer this time as he successfully keeps her at distance. He’s preparing to kick her when she suddenly changes tactics. She puts more power behind her blows, bodily throwing herself towards him. Loki allows her to send a seemingly wild strike his way only to find her attached to his leg. She once again throws him off balance and too the ground while using her entire body to hold his ankle captive.  
“Mercy,” Loki growls. She elegantly rolls away and to a stable crouching position.  


“You appear out matched, Brother,” Thor says with laughter in his voice. Loki frowns.  
“I would like to see you do better,” he declares in a frustrated tone and strides from the practice area so Thor can take his place.  
“Very well.” Thor cheerfully sets his hammer down. Barton the archer snorts in amusement and Sif and Maria Hill watch on with interest.  


“Begin,” Loki barks.  
Thor is strong and skilled. They begin to spar as any two opponents might. Then Natasha finds an opening. One moment they are face to face, the next Natasha is perched on Thor’s shoulders, his neck choked between her two strong thighs. If this were a real match, she would be in a position to break his neck. Thor moves to pull her off but she pulls his hand off her leg by the middle finger and twists it until he winces. He falls backwards dislodge her. Natasha exhales with pain as her back hits the dirt but laying prone gives her an even better position to strangle the prince and she makes use of it. Thor writhes futilely against her hold. Loki purposely postpones calling match despite the obvious outcome. Sif looks ready to call hold herself by the time Thor surrenders.  


Natasha releases him immediately and professionally. She rolls away and gets to her feet just like she did before. Loki watches her move. She is impossibly sure of herself, she can keep center and balance while performing acrobatics that would disorient even the most skilled of warriors.  


Thor sits up in the dirt and beams more happily than anyone defeated in such a manner aught to.  
“You have a wild one, Brother,” he announces. Loki quirks an eyebrow at him.  
“Can we continue later?” Natasha speaks up. “I have seamstresses waiting for me.”  
“Yes, of course,” Loki waves at the waiting attendants who followed Natasha into the training grounds. The woman nods and leaves with the servants the way she came.  


“Don’t feel too bad, big guy,” the archer says cheerfully to Thor. “Hand to hand is Nat’s specialty.”  
“What isn’t?” Maria Hill raises an eyebrow. Barton frowns.  
“Now that you mention it, I can’t think of anything she can’t do. Obviously, I’m better at archery but she’s not bad.”  
“She must join us on adventures,” Thor says to Loki.  
‘I’ll decide that,” Loki reminds his brother.  
“Shall we continue our spar, Maria?” Sif asks.  
“Just for sport, she needn’t be in danger,” Thor continues.  
“Skyrim!” Barton exclaims. “She sucks at video games. Well not fighting games, but anything that doesn’t require lightning reflexes.” Everyone looks at him oddly.  


Loki manages to escape his friends and family and heads to his chambers. Upon arriving he finds his wife and a few servants arranging her new clothes in storage spaces. Her Midgardian clothes are gone from her body, replaced with a cream colored flowing gown that makes his mouth go dry. The bodice highlights her lean waist and a jeweled scoop neck displays her breasts. Natasha notices him staring and says off handedly, “Your mother insisted I wear it.” The queen mother is officially an evil mastermind.  


“I would speak with you.” Loki stands to the side and waits for the servants to finish their chore. Neither newlywed speaks until the help closes the door behind them. “Did you come here under false pretences?”  
“No,” she answers in a clam and icy tone.  
“Do you have orders to kill me?” Loki drawls with an incredulous look on his face.  
“I’m here to promote peace and represent Earth’s interests from within the royal family. I would be a spy or assassin only in case of war.” Loki crosses his arms and frowns, prompting her to explain further. “Every available female that could be trusted to remain loyal to Earth was presented to your mother. I have no idea why she chose me. Yes, I answered all her questions truthfully. Lying to the queen would be war.”  
“But you lied to me?”  
“Never directly.”  


Loki looses his patience. He hits the wall next to her head and leans in close. Natasha doesn’t blink. “Speak.”  
“I have killed between 300 and 1000 humans. Natasha Romanoff is one of my real names the other is Natalia Alianovna Romanova. I spent most of my childhood in a training program designed to create assassins. I have worked for several governments. I chose to work with S.H.I.E.L.D. after meeting Clint and deciding their mission is nobler than my previous employers’. Anything else?” Loki glares down at her but she remains unmovable and unafraid.  


“I should have you punished for this.”  
“You are welcome to try,” she answers in monotone.  
“A man may do what he wishes with his wife,” Loki threatens.  
“An empty threat. There is nothing you can do, without starting a war, that I have not already suffered.”  


Loki’s anger shifts as he processes that statement. “What man has touched you without consent?” he demands.  
“No need to worry, they are all dead.”  
“They? How many?” The fist he presses against the wall near her head clenches tighter.  
“You want a list?” Natasha raises her eyebrows questionably. His glare must be answer enough because she continues. “One of my instructors in interrogation tactics; one of the older pupils, female; and I have had sexual relations with…” her eyes unfocus as she mentally takes tally, “twelve individuals that I found reproachful for the purpose of my mission.”  
“Including me?” Loki growls.  
“No, you are one of the twenty-seven that I wouldn’t mind having casual sex with if we met outside a mission,” she answers with almost a careless air. For one of the few times in his life, Loki could think of nothing to say.  
“And these…numbers…they still live?”  
“I haven’t kept track,” she answers off-handedly. She gazes up at him, unblinking. Loki stares into her pale eyes for a moment before continuing.  
“I suppose you’ve seduced many more.”  
“Of course.”  
“Killed men while they were distracted with your charms?”  
“Yes,” she puts a question into her voice, as if asking for the point of this topic.  
“Poisoned, strangled, betrayed, left victims to die?” He allows venom to drip from his tone.  
“I’m not proud of it. Not much of it, anyway.”  


“What are you proud of, murderess of Midgard?” he challenges and watches her face. She frowns slightly.  
“Surviving. Discovering and holding on to my true personality. That I allowed my foster father to escape and live a moderately long, moderately happy life. My skill. The morals I have chosen to hold. Every action that I can count as atonement for mistakes I’ve made and lives I’ve taken,” she says in a softer tone. If she has kept her word to be honest then these answers have been the most strenuous to give. Still, she says everything quickly, obviously she’s thought about all this before.  


Loki exhales a touch of the antagonism he held and leans back so he’s not looming over her quite so much. “Never lie to me again,” he orders.  
“Agreed,” she responds immediately.  
“Now say again, what do you seek from this marriage?”  
“Peace and power for Earth. I want to uphold our two worlds’ truce for as long as possible.” Loki waits but she doesn’t continue.  
“I said. What. Do. You. Want?” He speaks his demand a second time.  
“Continued opportunity to keep my mind and physical skills from becoming dull. To learn your culture. Sex at least once a month is preferable.” She speaks slower now and pauses momentarily. “Something to read…to be able to travel or at least to walk about without guards. Regular good tasting meals.” She frowns as if truly thinking of more to say. “These current rooms are nice, I’d like to stay here. I enjoy privacy when I can have it.”  
“Are you acting, again?” Loki raises an eyebrow.  
“I agreed not to,” she answers with almost an indignant huff. At that the prince smirks.  


“Your true character is a woman who asks regular meals from a prince who could shower her with jewels?”  
“I don’t take anything for granted. And jewels are worthless, they’re just shiny.” His smirk morphs into a grin. “Royalty isn’t special, either. Governments fall every day, I try not to weep about it.”  
“Now where did you get that cynicism?” Loki mocks. Natasha doesn’t dignify it with an answer.  


“I don’t care if we’re friends but I suppose things will go smoother if we get along.”  
“You suppose?” He verges on laughter. “Married life is far more adventurous than anticipated.”  
“You’re welcome.” Now Loki does laugh.  
“Is it too late to meet outside of your mission?” He sends an obvious look towards their bed and holds out his hand. Natasha smirks. She bypasses his offered palm and reaches straight for his crotch.  


As a boring, married man, he did not expect this. There is no ladylike submission this time, only something best described as primal animal mating. Like a she-spider Natasha acts as though she intends to eat him the moment he finishes his purpose and gets her pregnant. They grapple, scratch and bite for the preferred position. Every blanket hits on the floor in record time. In other words, it is the best sex the prince has ever experienced by leagues.  


“So, what gave me away?” Natasha speaks up as they lie together afterwards.  
“Hm?” Loki looks over at his wife, his currently languid mind not quite registering her words.  
“How did you know I wasn’t as feeble and ladylike as I pretended?” she rephrases.  
“The fault was not yours,” Loki lets his lips quirk upward. “But your companions spoke of you as a warrior. The archer was particularly helpful.” Natasha gives a long suffering sigh and rolls onto her side to face Loki.  
“Of course he was.” The prince smiles lazily at her.  
“Thor is my brother, what’s your excuse?”  
“Clint saved my life. And I like his personality, it’s a contrast from what I’m used to.” Loki made a face so she went on the offensive. “I’m sure Thor cheers you up sometimes.”  
“Sometimes,” he admits and turns over so they are closer. “Again?”  
“Yes.” And she is upon him.  
They don’t leave their rooms for the rest of the day.  


The next morning Loki wakes alone in bed again. He looks up to see his wife brushing her hair in front of the nearby mirror.  
“Good morning,” she says without looking at him. The prince hums in agreement and stretches under the blankets. “One thing I forgot to mention last night,” Natasha breaks the morning peace. “I’m sterile.”  
“What?” Loki sits up.  
“As a child I had surgery to prevent me from giving birth. But your mother didn’t seem concerned. She wants to have your medics look at me before I worry you about it. Which is why I neglected bring it up earlier.” Now she meets his eyes in the mirror. “Any hard feelings?”  
“If she’s not concerned then neither am I,” Loki answers truthfully. The Queen Mother would not so easily pass up the opportunity to become The Queen Grandmother.

>

Two days later, everyone is still enthusiastic from the wedding and Loki decides now would be a good time for their first trip together out of the castle. He had received a notice from the Midgard embassy that they were concerned about supply routs. He could answer with a letter but he decides this matter deserves a trip.  


“Agent Romanoff!” The Man of Iron calls when he sees her. His generator is done so Loki doesn’t know why he lurks near the door. But this is not Asgardian territory so it is not his concern. “I assume my wedding invitation got lost in the mail.”  
“No,” Natasha frowns at him.  
“Aw, I thought we were friends.”  
“No.”  
“What we had a lot of good times, with you sneaking into my company, and spying on me.”  
“No.” Loki has to bite back amusement.  


Son of Coul she greets with a civil handshake. The man apologizes for not attending the wedding. Natasha waves him off saying she knows how the job works.  
“Husband Loki, you’ve met Agent Philip Coulson. He and I have worked together on multiple occasions. His talent lies in even headed delegation of resources,” Natasha introduces the human.  
“That skill is clear for all to see,” Loki offers a complement and nods to the man.  
“I’m flattered, your Highness,” Coulson smiles politely at Loki. “How are things Romanoff?” He addresses Natasha.  
“Have you seen Asgard outside of the embassy?” Natasha sends a calculating glance to Loki. The prince gives her a look to know that he trusts her to have a private conversation with an old comrade. He turns to the human in charge of resources for the embassy to discuss business. “They have a type of stone…” Is the last he hears of their dialogue as they sit together to converse.

>

“Your friends claim you a master of all weapons,” Loki chides. They stand in the training grounds for another round of sparing.  
“I don’t like not knowing how to do something.”  
“Which is your weakest weapon?” he asks while surveying the wall of training weaponry.  
“You just want to beat me at something,” she says in a tone that is light and teasing rather than accusatory. Loki doesn’t hold back a half-grin as he takes two spears off the wall.  
“Should we test your skill at magic, then?”  
“No, this is fine,” she returns and takes one spear with a quirk of her lips.

>

Loki watches his wife dress. She hides knives and garrotes in her bodice. Sheaths around her thighs, lock picks and needles in her hair, daggers and cord sewn into the folds of her skirt, and her electric bracelets hidden beneath her flowing sleeves. And these are her perorations for a good day.  


>

The two princes and their companions journey into the countryside of Asgard. There is talk of a village organizing a rebellion in response to the treaty with Midgard. On the way Thor grumbles about this not being a true adventure or test of his skills. Loki is used to this but after half an hour Natasha looses patience and lectures him extensively about duty and honor. The rest of the journey is spent in lively debate on the topics.  


Upon reaching their destination it becomes obvious that scorn for the Midgardian treaty runs ramped in the town. So much so, that the guards at the town gates refuse to open the doors as long as Natasha is in their party.  
Loki warns he will not allow insult to his wife and Thor warns that the sons of Odin must be obeyed. When the villagers still refuse to let them enter, they are in agreement to beak down the door. Immediately, villagers are upon them. Thor is of course gleeful at the opportunity for combat and charges in hammer swinging.  


Those in the town were clearly prepared for battle and it looks as though most of the women and all of the children had already been moved someplace secure. Loki leaps from his horse so the animal won’t be injured and throws a knife into the nearest attacker. The conflict begins to die down in only a minute, untrained rebels little threat to royal warriors. With Thor chasing after the few that flee, Loki glances around for his wife. Somehow he lost track of her in the mild confusion.  
He locates her inside one of the houses. Every door is kicked in. Men lay on the ground, one writhes in the corner, and curiously two hang from the ceiling. Natasha is in one of the side rooms, rummaging through a desk. A man in armor struggles to hold himself up with his fingers so that the rope around his neck and a support beam doesn’t choke him.  
“I found their head quarters,” Natasha says calmly without looking up.

>

The rustle of sheets and an elbow in the ribs jerks the prince to wakefulness. He sits up to the sound of retching. Climbing from bed he finds his wife bent double over a wash basin. Loki crouches next to her and holds her hair while she vomits. “Shall I fetch a healer?” he asks once she finishes spitting.  
“I’m fine,” she pats his arm so he knows to release her and stands. “I was warned this might be a side effect of my medicine.” She starts for the kitchen but Loki hurries ahead so she won’t have to fetch her own glass of water.  
“To make you fertile?”  
“Yes.” She accepts the glass he hands her.  
“I shall accompany you to the healing chambers tomorrow.”  
“If you wish but I assure you nothing interesting will happen.”  
“I will see if your progress is more than just loosing your dinner.”  
“That’s sweet of you.”  
“A husband shows concern for…”  
“I’m not complaining,” Natasha interrupts. She gives him a small smile. “It’s nice.” She sets her empty glass aside and takes Loki’s hand. 

>

The Allfather sits at the head of the table. The two princes, three advisors, and Lady Natasha sit round the table with their king. Odin consults on diplomacy and policy with the gathering over plates of cheese, fruit, and bread. In the middle of reading a document the double doors are thrown open. A guard stands in the door, he appears to be precariously holding onto his composure. “Lord Hiemdal reports frost giants in the East.” In the blink of an eye, the room is on its feet.  


Without preamble, Odin, Thor, Loki, and a battalion of Asgardian soldiers are charging towards a mountain range in the East. They arrive at a small mining town that would normally be lively at this time of day but they are only greeted with eerie silence. An unnatural amount of snow covers the streets and buildings. The cold puts everyone on offensive, ready for attack. Odin waves at his sons, telling them to split up and circle around each side of the village. Loki leads a few troops uphill, purposely heading towards the mines.  


The soft crunching of their footsteps is drowned out when a shout reverberates through the snowy village. And since it is Thor’s yell, snow falls from the overhead tree to land on Loki’s head. His brother apparently found a frost giant in the town so Loki hurries to his goal. As expected, he finds a blue giant guarding the cave entrance. With a spell he knocks that one to the ground but already two more emerge from the Asgardian made hole in the cliff face.  


The guards advance on the enemy with well trained precision. The larger creature materializes icicles to hurl at them but the smaller dashes past the armored soldiers. Loki throws a dagger at the fast one but it ducks low and latches onto his extended arm. The armor freezes and creaks away where the giant grasps it. Loki expects pain from the cold but instead his skin tingles with an almost pleasant chill. Both the prince and the frost giant pause and stare as his pale arm turns blue until it perfectly matches the fingers gripping it. The two beings glance at each other in confusion. Seeing the red eyes brings Loki back to his senses and he stabs the beast in the chest. As the frost giant crumples over, he watches mesmerized as his flesh returns to its normal color. He could ponder it longer but remembers he has troops in battle that he must support. He forcibly puts the thought out of his mind for the time being.  


With Odin in attendance it doesn’t take long to incinerate the intruders. Loki is busy investigating the mine when they regroup. Thor rants about how this is a declaration of war, Odin tries to lecture him on how a few raiders does not mean that Laufey broke the truce.  
“They got past our boarders!” Thor is ranting and Loki chooses to step in.  
“I have an idea about that. The caverns in this mountain are older than the conflict with Jotunheim.”  
“What of it?” Thor huffs.  
“Brother, surely you know that there were ancient ways of traveling between the nine realms before the Bifrost. Supposedly they have all been abandoned or destroyed but one of the ancient tunnels here might connect to a similar one in Jotunheim, could it not?” Loki looks to his father who is nodding.  
“Yes, Loki. If they used the Bifrost they would not have appeared in so remote a place. We will return but the guard will stay here on watch.”  


As the Allfather commanded, they head back home even though Thor is still rearing for a fight. Loki wants to be interested in the discovered tunnel to Jotunheim but can’t help glancing at his hand. He tries to write it off as a trick of the mind but knows he’s lying. He barely greets Natasha upon his return. She must notice his mood because she gives him space.  
After a day of dark musings, Loki lets himself into the weapon’s vault. There is only one way to be certain even though he already knows what he will see.

>

Loki storms into his chambers, intent on getting away from his so-called parents. Natasha sits in a chair with a book and looks up when the door slams. He ignores her in favor of pacing about in a rage.  
“What happened?” she prompts when he doesn’t share.  
“I’m a monster!” Natasha raises an eyebrow and unhurriedly puts a bookmark between the pages. “A frost giant! I’m a trophy from Jotunheim that my parents kept out of…some sort of sympathy!” He turns to his wife in distress but only finds her watching him calmly and analytically from her chair. Had he spoken in tongues? She has no reaction. “My family has lied to me!”  


“You’re adopted?” Natasha sounds calmer than she has any right to be.  
“Do you not understand? I’m the sworn enemy of Asgard. Laufey’s son! All my life I’ve been the son of Odin now… Loki Laufeyson,” his rant devolves into angry broken muttering.  
“Laufey, the King of Jotunheim?” She looks surprised for the first time. “My sincere sympathies.”  
“Sympathies?” he glares at her.  
“Yes.”  


“Do you know what it’s like to learn everything you believed is a lie? To realize you are some sort of creature?!” he rounds on her now.  
“Yes.” Her icy response gives Loki pause. He sighs and lowers his voice before continuing.  


“It all makes sense now. Why Thor was always the favorite son. Why I’ve never bulked at the cold. There was never even the possibility of me inheriting the throne.” He resumes his furious pacing, hands alternating from being clenched at his sides to waving about animatedly. “How did they plan to keep this from me? By never letting me leave the castle? Would they have taken this to their graves? ,” the volume of his voice begins to rise again. The prince lashes out and knocks a glass vase to the floor where it shatters. “And you have nothing to say?!” He spins around once again to Natasha.  


“I’m being a supportive wife and listening your distress,” she answers calmly from where she sits.  
“Oh, are you to claim that you knew all along? Did my mother share the secret before you consented to marry me?”  
“No,” Natasha says in a voice that implies he’s an idiot for asking. “I just don’t care. Did your parents disown you or say they don’t love you?”  
“No. They still claim I am their son. So, I suppose I am still a rich prince if that’s what you want.”  
“If they love you then they are your parents. I understand why you are upset but I’m not.” She leans back in her seat.  
“Not care?! I am a monster, you half-wit!” he screams at her this time.  


“I understand your distress,” she doesn’t blink or loose her air of calm. Loki growls low in his throat and stalks to the window. He presses his palm against the glass. The snow outside is barely a chill against his skin but he focuses on the cold until it creeps up his arm. Natasha has risen from her chair to watch and he glares at her with eyes he knows are now red.  
“Can this you comprehend, mortal?” he spits at her. She eyes his blue skin but doesn’t seem disgusted by the transformation.  
“It is different,” she agrees, still with no unhappiness in her tone.  
“‘Different’? That’s all you have to say?”  
“What would you like me to say?” she remains calm. “I could put on fake tears but we agreed we weren’t to do that.” Loki growls again and strides away from the window. Natasha watches his skin change back to its normal color as he paces.  


Angry, half-formed sentences rumble out of his throat until he wheels back around to face his wife and hollers, “Do you know the amount of scorn I will receive? Raised by Odin but history will call me Laufeyson! The man I called ‘Father’ is nothing but my kidnapper. The sworn enemy of Asgard is my true father. How can you just stand there? I have lost my identity, my family, everything I’ve worked for!”  
“I’m waiting for you to calm down and think rationally,” she doesn’t raise her voice.  
“There is nothing rational about this, Wife!”  
“You are adopted, new traits about your body need to be learned,” Natasha puts force behind these words and her eyes narrow as she speaks, “that is all that has changed.” Loki doesn’t hold back a bitter bark of laughter.  


“I fancied myself a prince. What am I really? An unwanted, abandoned, creature. Not even a proper giant, I’m small compared to Asgardians. I’m pathetic. All I’ve ever had is my skill at magic and now even my affinity for water control can be explained by my heritage. I’ve lost everything. No, no I’ve only lost one thing, one lie and my fake life comes apart. It would be better if Odin had left me to die in the ice!” The crystal vase across the room shatters without him even focusing his magic on it. Natasha doesn’t twitch at the noise. “How should I prove myself above my very skin? Who would accept a frost giant as king of Asgard?” Loki breaks himself out of his continuous ranting. He takes a breath and slows his speech. “My birthright…shall I leave for Jotunheim? Kill my father and become king of the monstrosities? I suppose I will be too much of an Asgardian.  
“Fate has played a cruel trick on you, Murderess. Wed to a man with no family. Too horrid to be accepted anywhere. We make an appealing pair do we not? Shall we wonder the nine realms together bringing fear and death wherever we go? Do you have any words, yet?” he continued to explain the situation to his annoyingly unresponsive woman.  


“I am being supportive and listening,” Natasha repeats, this time with more emotion slipping into her tone. Loki talks over her.  
“I was raised as royalty, promised the crown. Perhaps I should learn a lesson from my heritage. If none will give me my proper title there are ways I could take it.” Loki stares unseeing at the wall in thought. “Father grows weary, I have bested Thor in battle. There are places I might gather an army, I have those loyal to me here, surely a few frost giants…”  


“Shall I fetch you something to eat or drink?” Natasha interrupts.  
“What?” He looks up as she pulls him from his train of thought.  
“Food and drink, it has helped you temper your anger before,” she offers in her kinder tone.  
“I am calm enough,” he frowns at her insinuation. “You think I jest?”  
“I do not think you joke, Husband.” She moves towards the bell rope to call servants. “But I do think a glass of mead will help you think rationally though your understandable distress.”  
“All the mead in Asgard won’t change my mind. Born as son of Laufey raised as the son of Odin. I deserve to be king! Anyone who denies me what is rightfully mine is my enemy. That is the way of things,” Loki snaps irritably at his thick-headed wife. Frustratingly, the woman sighs as if exasperated.  


“Yes, you are royalty. If someone tries to take that away from you, they will fail. Your family is not going to shun you,” Natasha speaks softly, as if lecturing a distraught child. Loki frowns in resentment, this time aimed at his wife.  
“Forgive me, I forget you are incapable of emotion. Think of it instead as someone trying to steal the fine meals and clothes you have become accustomed to,” the insult flies from his lips with ease. Natasha settles into a glare with equal ease. “I have suffered the hardship of loosing my identity, Wife. You will support me.”  


“‘Hardship’?” she repeats incredulously. “You have suffered an inconvenience, mildly upsetting news.”  
“I stand to loose my entire history!”  
“Bullshit,” Natasha quips viciously. “You are they only one who wants to ruin your life. No one wants to fight you. And they won’t unless you force their hands. You’re parents already…”  
“My false parents lied!”  
“You are throwing a tantrum like a spoiled brat.”  
“Spoiled?!” Loki rages now. “Have you not heard? My whole life was a lie. The only thing I’ve been spoiled in is falsehood. I have nothing! How can you not know…”  


“You have everything!” Natasha’s face suddenly becomes as fearsome as his. For the first time in their marriage she exhibits raw passionate fury and it gives Loki pause. “Parents who love you unconditionally. A home. A purpose. A brother who would sooner die then abandon you. How dare you consider throwing this away when so many children would do anything to have even a part of your life yet still never get it no matter how hard they pray!?” There is no doubt to the ‘children’ she refers to. “You would waste something so pure upon finding a single flaw? Your life is not as you pictured so you would toss it aside? You would betray everyone who ever loved you because of one mistake?” Natasha’s speech is different, her English accented, and Loki can see the hints of a deep lifelong sadness in her face. “You ask how I could not know. Here is what you do not know. You do not know what means to truly hate life. You do not know true suffering. You do not know the pain of watching your parents die. You do not know what it is like to kill those you loved. You do not know what it means to be hungry or cold. You do not know what it is like to have no where safe to return. You do not know how close an eight year old girl came to giving up.” There is no mistaking the wetness in her pale eyes. “So, you do not ask me what I do not know!” her accent is so thick that Loki can barely understand her. “I listen to your troubles, spoiled, happy, prince, but I do not listen to this!” Natasha turns heel and storms to the exit. Loki watches the door to their rooms swing shut behind her, leaving him alone.  


Several hours of quiet thought. Loki locks himself in his study incase Natasha returns but she doesn’t. Privately he can acknowledge that Natasha may have a point, not that he forgives her for yelling at him. When he emerges, clear headed and prepared to decide a course of action, it’s past dinner time. He calls for a servant to bring him a simple late meal and to tell his wife, if she can be found, he wants to see her. By the time Natasha enters their rooms he has finished eating.  
“You missed supper,” he says in greeting.  
“That’s fine. I know what it is like to go hungry.”  
“That conversation…might have gone better,” Loki gives a peace offering.  
“Yes, it might have.” She nods to her part in the argument and that is all that need be said.  
“You must eat something,” he prompts instead. Natasha sits across from him at the table and pours herself a drink. Loki lets her sip in silence for a minute before speaking.  
“I will hear your thoughts. Would you have me forgive my family’s lies?” He keeps the hostility out of his tone. Natasha sighs slightly.  
“I can not say, I have never had a true family.”  
“But you assert whether or not we no longer act as such, they will always be my parents?”  
“Do you deny it?” she raises a curious eyebrow. Loki looks away and gives a sigh that clearly means the does not. “What I do know,” Natasha continues, “is that Thor is not to blame. If you’re parents loved him more, it is their fault not his.”  
“I know that,” Loki snaps but doesn’t shout. “The perfect Prince and I his shadow, that is the truth of my childhood.”  
“I don’t have a brother.”  
“I’ve never wanted the throne, I only wanted to be his equal.”  
“Aren’t you?” Natasha sets her glass down. “Clint will always be a better archer, he will always be better liked, be remembered longer and fonder by history. But I will always be smarter. And he will always love me and I will always love him. I don’t know what else matters.” Loki says nothing in response. “If it helps, I would much rather be married to you,” she adds.  


“I acknowledge your opinion, now leave me.” Natasha nods and stands.  
“Shall I sleep in a separate bed tonight?” she asks as she walks from the room.  
“No,” Loki orders and goes to the window. His wife watches him for only a moment then obediently leaves him to his thoughts.  


The prince does not consider the time as he watches snow fall. Eventually he heads to bed. As he wished, Natasha is already asleep under the covers. She jerks awake at the sound of him moving about but lies back down silently once her instincts are assured there is no danger. Loki climbs onto his side of the mattress and pulls his woman close. She grunts sleepily and shimmies a bit closer. She’s his wife, his woman, this will not be taken away from him.  


After only a few hours of rest, Loki sits up. He barely makes it out of bed before he’s noticed.  
“Where are you going?” Natasha turns to him, her beautiful red hair wild with sleep.  
“Go back to sleep.”  
“I may be your wife but I am also my own woman. If you do something foolish I will not wait for you. I will return to my old life. And I can not promise that I will keep the baby.” Loki freezes mid-motion.  
“What?”  


“I’m pregnant. And there are ways of forcing a miscarriage. If you become a traitor, I may not want to keep it. I haven’t decided yet.”  
“You…you are forcing me to stay by threatening the life of my unborn child?”  
“Would you prefer I let you leave without knowing?” she coldly looks up at him from the bed. “I’m just letting you know all the facts before you make a decision.” Done talking and unconcerned, she lies back down.  


120 seconds of silence passes. Eventually, Loki growls and tosses his clothes aside. “Damn you,” he hisses as he crawls back under the covers.  
“You’re welcome,” comes the smug reply from the darkness.


	2. Parenthood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now there be characters from mythology, kinda.

Pregnant Natasha was an interesting creature. For the first half of the pregnancy she completely ignored the issue, would barely even hold a conversation about it. The second half, though, her stomach started to swell considerably and she turned moody, lethargic, and demanding. She complained about her aches and pains for sympathy and used her belly as an excuse to get away with anything she wanted, mostly to boss her husband about. As she said, “I’m growing your baby, the least you can do is give me a god-damned foot rub.” Natasha wasn’t thrilled with being pregnant and let everybody know what a chore she was going through for their benefit.  


Loki could privately admit that he found her behavior endearing on a short term basis. She made servants cry and demanded Earth foods that nobody had ever heard of before. Loki ended up paying a Midgardian private chief to make obscure Russian dishes for her.  


The royal couple had to make some public appearances so commoners can coo over the coming child. Natasha especially got attention from Midgard. Apparently, Migardians started a betting pool about whether it would be a boy or a girl.  


Only in the last month, when Natasha could no longer ignore it and was in a better mood did they discuss future plans. She lay sprawled on the bed while Loki rested his ear against her stomach to listen to the tiny heart beat, something he had found he greatly enjoyed doing.  


“I want at least one of each,” Natasha spoke up.  


“Hm?”  


“A boy and a girl. Kids who don’t have siblings of the other sex believe in cuties.” Loki wasn’t sure what she was talking about but didn’t want to miss out on a chance to have this important conversation.  


“How many do you want?”  


“I don’t know, depends on how much of a pain this one is going to be. But I want them to either be close in age or far apart. One to three years apart or eight to fifteen years apart.”  


“Close would be better. Would you mind being pregnant again, immediately after this one is born?” A good thing to ask considering she was running everyone ragged on the first child.  


“I’d prefer to get it done with. As soon as my body resets after this one we’re going again,” she said with conviction. Loki smiled only to get a light smack on his head. “And we’re going now, roll over.”  


Natasha took childbirth with the grace of someone who has suffered worse. She opted for pain dulling medication and gave permission for a cesarean at the first sign of trouble. In the end Loki had a bruised arm, from where he let Natasha hit and grab at him; a loopy, significantly out of it wife; and a baby boy.  


When the baby had been given a clean bill of health and Natasha was awake enough to hold him, the began yet another installment of choosing-baby-names, in which Thor, the Warriors Three, and Clint Barton were no longer allowed to take part.  


“Why would we name him ‘mire-dweller’?” Natasha frowned at Loki’s first choice.  


“It means he is a strong survivor, feels at home in a dark environment, and can ambush people or swallow them like the wetland,” Loki argues for the Asgardian name.  


“Alright,” Natasha concedes, “Fenrir Ivan Lokison, it is.” She slightly bounces the sleeping child in her arms.  


Little Fenrir was six days old when trouble first appeared. For once it wasn’t Thor’s fault. The new uncle had already held and carried on a one-sided conversation with the newborn without incident. No, the first real parental challenge came in the form of one of the royal seers. Loki held the baby while the official preformed a traditional ceremony to welcome the new royal into the world. Natasha stood next to her husband looking unimpressed.  
At the end of the presentation, the man suddenly paused “My Lords, I see ...”  


“What?” Natasha and everyone else looked up.  


“I see a dark future for this boy and his siblings. A prophecy…” Loki’s gut response was to hold his son tighter with fear, having grown up in Asgard such warnings were worrisome.  


“Quiet!” Natasha apparently had no similar qualms and suddenly interrupted. “You will not speak about my son that way.”  


“Madam, the future tells me…”  


“Bullshit!” Natasha stalked menacingly into his space, glaring up at him with her killer eyes. “You say your nonsense. You tell everyone that he will be cruel which makes everyone scared. He will definitely become evil if we treat him as if he has no choice. I will not have your self-fulfilling nonsense in my mind while I raise my son.” The man did not look sufficiently terrified so Natasha continued. “If you say a single word you will be endangering my son. And as per your custom I have a sacred mother’s right to kill anyone who threatens my child.” She grabbed the man’s shirt and whispered into his ear, no doubt horrid things about how she would hang him with his own entrails if he ever spoke about her son again. Loki purposely stood off to the side and watched with pride.  


“Look at your mother using her talents, Fenrir,” he tilted the baby so he could see Natasha and the now properly gray faced ceremony official.  


“We will raise him and he will be whoever he damn well chooses to be,” Natasha declared after her victim scurried away.  


Loki ended up doing most of the child care, especially the midnight child care. As it turned out Natasha had a much higher tolerance for sleeping through the cries of her offspring than Loki did. She still doted on baby Fenrir but when it came time to change his dipper he usually got handed off to the prince or a servant. Of course, that habit only got worse when she became pregnant again. She stuffed cotton in her ears so she could get a full night’s sleep for the new baby, leaving Loki to tend to Fenrir. 

For her second pregnancy Natasha ignored it for the first third, alternated between complaining and ignoring the second third, and pampered for the final third. Loki didn’t mind indulging her, as long as she held Fenrir while he waited on her.  


For their coming second child, Natasha insisted on a Midgardian name so Loki insisted that the child be named after her. After all she had two real names, she could share one with the baby.  


When the boy was born, they agreed on a modified version of one of her names, Natalar. Natasha said it wasn’t exactly Midgardian but it suited the baby. Fenrir was only 13 months old but didn’t seem distressed by the arrival of a new little brother.  


Natalar got introduced to his uncle and Thor’s woman, Jane. On one of his recent trips to and from Asgard Thor happened across a Midgardian scientist studying the Bifrost. Jane was a simple and dedicated woman of science. She cared for Thor but was uneasy with fame. Their relationship was kept quiet for her benefit. Thor was smitten and would happily be married immediately but Jane insisted on a long courtship, ‘dating’. Whether or not she would eventually became his sister-in-law, Jane put up with Thor’s nonsense, helped cool his hot temper, and Sif wouldn't suffer for a little competition so Loki welcomed her. Jane was also good with Fenrir and Natalar so Natasha voiced no complaints with the woman.

Natasha announced her third pregnancy only two months after Natalar’s birth. She credited Asgardian medicine for her fertility, although in private she jokingly credited her and her husband’s active and enthusiastic bedroom life.  


With two babies to care for, Natasha and Loki barely spared a thought to her pregnancy. Natasha let Loki focus mostly on the two living children and forced servants to spoil her while she grew the third. When both boys cried, Loki worried that three children might be too many. But then the Queen Mother (who is thrilled to be a grandmother), Thor, a servant, or one of their friends would step in to help and Loki couldn’t wait for the next one to arrive. Natasha’s friends and acquaintances continued to visit. Clint Barton, especially, enjoyed playing with the boys and making them giggle and scream.  


The royal family suffered a scare when the third baby arrived prematurely. In an emergency session Natasha delivered a tiny baby girl. It was a tense few hours before the medics declared the girl underweight but otherwise healthy. It was the most intense sense of relief Loki had ever felt when he could finally hold the small bundle close.  


The little girl got her name after a discussion half the length of what her brother’s had. Loki suggested the name Hella and Natasha agreed that she liked the sound of it.  


“I’m done,” Natasha declared as she held the sleeping girl. “We have a girl now. That’s it.” She looked to Loki as if she expected him to argue but he didn’t. Three children from him and Natasha would cause enough trouble. Anymore and they would run ragged all of Asgard.

>

Two year old Fenrir Ivan Lokison is large for his age and can say Mama, Papa, and No along with other unintelligible babble. He has grown thick black hair that he does not like anyone to cut and the pale eyes of his mother. He worries the Asgardians slightly because he already shows a love for snow and ice. Natasha is unconcerned and encourages the habit despite Loki’s discomfort.  


Natalar Romanova Lokison just makes gurgling noises. He is in no hurry to learn to walk and is content to crawl and roll everywhere. However, his ability to hide and get into places he isn’t supposed to be hints at a budding intellect. His eyes are blue but are starting to turn green and his wispy, fine hair is light brown but his father hopes it will grow red like his namesake’s.  


Hella Loptr Daughter of Loki is only ten months younger than Natalar. She was born with a head of black hair and gray eyes. She’s a quiet, calm baby that likes to stare at people or any living thing that moves, especially her brothers. Loki expects her to be talented at magic later in life.  


“Are you happy, Loki?” Natasha asks. She picks up toys from the floor while Loki sits nearby. He has Hella in one arm, Natalar in the other, and bounces Fenrir on his knee. Fatherhood looks good on him, the dignity of a prince remains in his posture even when covered with children. “Your perfect life has flaws with me about, would you prefer we never married?”  


“Wife, don’t mock me. And feed Hella, she’s chewing her fingers again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Loki’s children don’t become evil because Black Widow gives destiny the middle finger.


End file.
